


The Bachelor Crack Fic Absolutely No One Asked For

by roseoutofperdition



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternative Universe - The Bachelor, Based on LadyIrina's AU and OC, Besides frustration from the mandalorian, Fluff, Hannah Brown fought in The Battle of Endor, M/M, No Angst, Romance, Slow Burn, Thank u LadyIrina for my life, The Bachelor exists in the Star Wars universe, crackfic, oblivious!corin, what am I doing with my life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:33:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22307980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseoutofperdition/pseuds/roseoutofperdition
Summary: Corin, a boom mic specialist on the set of The Bachelor, is surprised to learn that this season's star - the Mandalorian - isn't quite the usual casting that the producers tend to stick to. He knows that everyone that comes on this show has ulterior motives, and yet, he finds himself intrigued by the man as the episodes go on.The Mandalorian is there to find someone to raise his kid with him - no more, no less - but when a blue-eyed boom mic operator catches his eye, he realizes his interests aren't in the contestants on the show.Chris Harrison is also there.
Relationships: Baby Yoda & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Cara (The Mandalorian TV)/Omera (Star Wars), Corin the Stormtrooper (Rescue and Regret)/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Paz Vizla/Chris Harrison
Comments: 36
Kudos: 148





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyIrina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyIrina/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Family and Home](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21758992) by [LadyIrina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyIrina/pseuds/LadyIrina). 



> I would like to thank LadyIrina for blessing us with her amazing writing and OC (Corin) - if you haven't read her fic, Family and Home, and you're reading this, I have no idea what you're doing. 
> 
> I never thought my creative writing concentration would come in handy outside of getting to take some cool classes, but here I am, writing fanfic of a fanfic,
> 
> Also, thanks to the discord for this idea - y'all are awesome !
> 
> Also NRBC is New Republic Broadcasting Company
> 
> Also Also Paz WILL be on the next season of Bachelor on Scarif

“Hi, I’m Chris Harrison, and welcome to an exciting new season of _The Bachelor_.” 

Corin, boom mic in hand, eyelids drooping, sighed as he watched the host. _Another day, another dollar_ , he thought, switching the weight to the other arm. He forgot how heavy the microphone could get when Chris Harrison decided it would take 28 takes of one sentence to get it _just_ right. 

He shuffled to the side, inching closer to the edge of the set, making sure he didn’t lean into frame. _God forbid we do another take_ , Corin thought. _We’re already going to be here well past midnight, we might as well get this shit-show started._

Corin had been through this song and dance enough times to know that no one truly found love on this show. He’d seen it all - messy breaks, clean separations, even one where the star ended up with no one in the end. You couldn’t find love on a glorified game show, not with the producers stirring the pot as they were wont to do. Hell, you didn’t even know anything about the person sitting across from you, outside of what the scriptwriters deemed as directly pertinent. 

The viewers would be surprised to know that most people did not come on this show for the “right reasons.” It was always some kind of grasp for social media fame, a promotion of a product or an album, or just for the sheer notoriety of it all. For the bragging rights of being on NRBC’s _The Bachelor_. 

This season was no exception, though Corin had to give the producers some credit. They actually got a face that was new to the franchise to be the star this time around instead of recycling a face from the previous season of _The Bachelorette_ or _Bachelor on Scarif_. He had yet to meet the oh-so-lucky man that had been carefully selected by some higher power at the station, deemed worthy enough for one of their most profitable “reality” holovision shows. 

“We have a bit of a surprise for you tonight,” Chris Harrison droned on, pacing very slowly around the rose ceremony platform. “We’re handling this season of the show a bit differently. The contestants will be going into their relationship with our bachelor completely blind. That’s right - this season of The Bachelor is about sheer chemistry alone. Due to our bachelor’s religious beliefs, they will not know the star’s name, nor see his face, until after their wedding.”

 _Always with the gimmicks_ , Corin thought, adjusting a wire that fed the microphone’s audio somewhere under the floor.

“Please give it up for the, uh, Mandalorian!” The room is dead silent - the applause track would be added in later. 

A man stepped out of the door frame, barely missing whacking his head against it.

Corin’s jaw dropped. The man was coated in what looked like hundreds of thousands of credits of beskar, one of the most coveted metals in the galaxy. This shouldn’t have surprised Corin, as he knew that this was the metal of this man’s people, but he had never seen so much in person. 

As Corin gawked at the silver armor, he noticed a sliver of skin visible between the man’s glove and his sleeve. _Human_ , he realized, noticing the unmistakable shade and texture, meaning that this man is one of his own kind. _At least we won’t have a repeat of last season_ , he thought, recalling the Chiss man who had used his telepathy to start fights between the contestants for his sheer amusement. While it may have been good for ratings, Corin’s nerves couldn’t take another shoe being hurled in his general direction. 

“It’s a pleasure to be here,” the Mandalorian said, walking to stand beside the host. If Corin didn’t know any better, he would have said that the star looked a bit unnerved by it all, like he had been picked up off the street fifteen minutes ago and forced into the opportunity to find his one true love. 

Corin shifted the boom mic so that it centered above the heads of both the host and the Mandalorian, blankly staring at the two men and hoping that they would cut soon so that he could finally rest his arms.

The Mandalorian’s helmet shifted slightly at the adjustment, seemingly looking directly at Corin. Corin quickly switched his gaze to Chris Harrison, feeling uneasy, like he had been caught doing something wrong. 

Chris Harrison continued with his introduction, allowing the Mandalorian to break in from time to time with quick anecdotes about his childhood or time in the Bounty Hunters’ Guild. 

_This man has probably killed someone_ , Corin thought. _But, honestly, if he did, I don’t particularly want to know._  
******  
It was 2:36 AM when they finally wrapped for the day, and Corin felt like he could fall asleep under the snack bar right then and there. 

As he packed up his microphone, he noticed a silver gleam sneak into the equipment room door. _What in the world could he possibly want in the tech room?_ Corin thought, snapping his case shut. _If he messes up the sorting system I have going in there, he’s going to have a lot more to worry about than a catfight on-set._

Corin stalked over to the storage room, mic case in hand. He was ready to tell off the man who seemed to have decided that, since he was the star of the season, he could go wherever his heart desires - including a room with the sign “Authorized Personnel Only.” 

“Just because you’re on the payroll doesn’t mean that you have unlimited access to every area in the filming studio,” Corin fumed under his breath.

When Corin swung open the door, rearing for a fight, he found absolutely no trace of the Mandalorian inside. It wasn’t a very large space - more of a glorified walk in closet filled with power cords and camera parts than anything else. Strangely, there was only one entrance, which Corin had walked in from. _I must have missed him coming out while I was looking down,_ he thought, _at least he didn’t screw anything up._

As Corin put his equipment in its designated spot, he heard a cough come from somewhere behind the camera batteries. Corin whipped around and found the Mandalorian emerging from behind the space between the shelf and the wall. 

“Sorry I, uh, needed some quiet for a second,” the Mandalorian said. If Corin didn’t know any better, he would have said that the man seemed almost sheepish underneath the helmet. “The girls they’re just...so _loud_. And they always want to talk to me.”

Corin, one hand on his microphone case, looked at the man with a perplexed gaze. “Didn’t you, uh, kind of sign up for that?”

“Yes - I mean, I guess. I just didn’t expect this much talking.” 

“Have you _seen_ this show? It’s literally _all_ talking.”

“No, I haven’t. My friend, she, uh, roped me into doing this.”

“Oh?” Corin was thoroughly perplexed, never having interacted with any cast member - contestant or star - who hadn’t seen the show before coming on it. “Why in the world would you agree to be on a show you knew nothing about?”

“My son, he - I want him to have a second parental figure in his life. My line of work isn’t really the safest when it comes to being a single parent.”

 _Oh._ “So you decided to come on one of the Republic’s most-watched cable shows, instead of, you know, going to a bar and just talking to someone?”

“Most people don’t quite see past the helmet,” the Mandalorian sighed. “Whenever I go to a bar, it’s more people trying to get me to take it off than people trying to get to know me. At least here it’s in their contract that they can’t ask me to do that.”

Corin shifted his weight between his two feet, crossing his arms. “So you mean to tell me, you came onto this show, having no previous knowledge of what it was, with the sole intent of actually looking for a woman to fall in love with?”

“Looking for someone to raise my child with, yes.”

“Interesting,” Corin let out a dry chuckle, unsure of where to look to make eye contact properly with the man. “Well, I hate to break it to you, but if you intend on doing that, you’re going to have to talk to people.”

“I’m starting to realize that.”

“Good. So I-” The door swung open, cutting Corin off mid-thought. 

“What are you doing here, Mando? I told you we have to get some interview shots of you before you go home tonight,” Chris Harrison leaned in through the door frame, looking exasperated and slightly sweaty. 

“I needed my mic pack adjusted,” the Mandalorian said, delivering it like he had already rehearsed the excuse in his head. “He was helping me out.”

Chris Harrison shot a questioning glance at Corin, who forced a tight smile in response. 

“Yeah, the battery pack was coming a bit loose,” Corin explained, searching for something he could use to back up the man next to him. Why he was corroborating his lie, he had no idea. “It’s all fixed now, though. Nothing some tape couldn’t help.”

“Hm. Well, alright then. Mando - can I call you Mando? I heard your friends call you Mando.”

“Uh,” the Mandalorian shifted, somehow visibly uncomfortable despite having absolutely no visible indicator of emotions. 

“Alright, Mando - this will be quick, just a few short questions on your first reactions to the contestants. Meet me on stage 4, and remember: the sooner we get it over with, the sooner you can go home and rest up for your 7 AM call tomorrow!” Chris Harrison shot a quick finger gun at the star, turned on his heel, and disappeared into the crowd of technicians trying to pack up for the day. 

“I guess that’s my cue,” The Mandalorian sighed, turning to Corin. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

“Uh, yeah, no problem,” Corin replied, suddenly feeling uncomfortable with the small dimensions of the room. 

“I guess I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow, uh...” the Mandalorian trailed off, cocking his head to the side in a question. 

“Corin.”

“Corin. I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow, Corin.” And with that, the Mandolorian disappeared into the set in the general direction of Chris Harrison. 

Corin, knowing what would come in the weeks ahead, hoped for the star’s sake that he would develop more endurance when it comes to holding conversations. If the Mandalorian thought tonight was bad, he hasn’t seen nothing yet.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The only redeeming quality of this season, in Corin’s opinion, was that he had made a new friend. At this point, it had become a routine for Corin and the Mandalorian to meet in the equipment room after a long day of shooting so that the star could decompress and talk through what had happened with someone who wouldn’t sell him out to the producers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok y'all - classes are starting up this week, but I'm still going to finish this out. So do not fear if updates are delayed, you will still get your Chris Harrison crack fic!
> 
> Also thanks Cal for being an amazing editor <3

It was officially week 5, and Corin didn’t know if he could take any more drama for the second half of this season. Several women had walked off the show after the second episode, stating that they just “couldn’t feel a connection with someone when they couldn’t see their face.” 

One woman had been forcibly removed after attempting to take the Mandalorian’s helmet off. They halted filming for a day after that. 

The only redeeming quality of this season, in Corin’s opinion, was that he had made a new friend. At this point, it had become a routine for Corin and the Mandalorian to meet in the equipment room after a long day of shooting so that the star could decompress and talk through what had happened with someone who wouldn’t sell him out to the producers. 

“I’m just saying, if someone is really after your heart, they wouldn’t spend half the time she does trying to screw with other contestants,” Corin said, lounging against a box full of tripod stands. 

“I don’t care if any of them are after my heart,” the Mandalorian said, propped up against the wall directly across from Corin. “I just want to find someone who’s good for my kid. And she certainly is not.”

“You know you _can_ send her home - that’s kind of a big part of your role.”

“I can’t.”

“Hm?” Corin frowned as he wondered what possibly could have made this girl appealing enough that her antics were tolerable in this man’s eyes.

“I can’t send her home, the producers won’t let me. Say she makes for good holovision.”

“Ah, I see.” Corin thought back to the previous season of _The Bachelorette_ , remembering the chaos that one particular contestant had caused amongst the cast. While it made for good holovision, the star had a full-on breakdown nearly every day. 

“So,” the Mandalorian continued, “we have the crazy one, we have Cara, who’s a lesbian, we have-”

“Wait, the _lesbian?_ ” 

“Yes, Cara.”

“I thought she was really into you,” Corin slumped back onto his elbows, shooting the man a baffled look.

“No, she’s just a friend. Only here for the women and the alcohol. Now, we have Raga, who is off-limits, and Omera, who Cara called dibs on. Who’s left.”

Corin thought through the cast, and realized that, after ruling out the names he just listed, only three women remained - and he knew that his friend was planning on sending them home next week. “Uh, not many.”

“Well shit,” the Mandalorian sighed, tilting his helmet back against the wall. “I can pick Raga and just not marry her. She’s just here to be my wingman.” 

Raga, a fellow Mandalorian, Corin recalled, had dragged the Mandalorian to a casting call as moral support. The producers took one look at him, asked him a few questions, and quickly realized they had their twist for this season: the man who, to these women, did not have a name, a face, or, evidently, any ability to hold a conversation. 

_At least he isn’t that way with me,_ Corin thought, _it would make these rendezvous a lot more dull if he wasn’t keen on talking with me._

Corin had quickly realized that, despite what the viewers saw, the Mandalorian could speak more than four words at a time if he wanted to. During the dates, he had taken to making dry commentary under his breath that only his in-suit microphone could pick up, knowing the only person that could hear was Corin through his headphones. While it was a pain to edit out from the final cut, he made the painfully awkward conversations with the contestants a bit more bearable for Corin to listen to. 

“You should, uh, come on the group date next week,” the Mandalorian said. “I could use someone level headed there. I don’t think I can handle one more ‘can I steal ya for a sec?’”

Corin snorted at the deadpan impression, as well as the proposition. “That’s funny, you really want me there? Cramping your vibe?”

“Why not?”

“Why not? First off, the producers would never let me - they’re much too focused on building relationships with you and the women, which, if you didn’t know, is the whole point of the show.”

“I know that, but I could talk them around. I want you there. To keep me sane.”

“If you can find a way to convince them, go ahead - but I’m telling you, they’d never let me on camera. I don’t have that, uh, holovision personality. Or face, mind you.” Corin fiddled with a wire on the shelf next to him, thinking of the possibility of being on the other side of the camera. In every situation he imagined, something went wrong. 

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” 

“Say that about yourself,” the Mandalorian said, slowly standing up. “It isn’t true.” 

“Listen, I appreciate you complimenting my screen acting capabilities, but we both know I would spend the whole time rolling my eyes at everything that’s said, and you would have to reshoot when the producers realized I’m a distraction.” Corin sighed as he got to his feet, wrapping the cord he had been twisting into a neat loop. 

“I should go back to my room. I, uh, I’ll see you tomorrow.” The Mandalorian opened the closet door and sped-walked towards the stage exit. 

_He must really want to get to bed,_ Corin thought, placing the cord back into its box. _I can’t blame him though, after the 12-hour-long shoot we had today, the last thing he probably wants to do is talk to me._

Even though they had grown closer over the past few weeks, Corin still held his breath every time he cracked a joke or gave his opinion, fearing that that would be the straw that makes his new friend realize he doesn’t actually want to talk with him. He was the star of the show, after all, and Corin was just a tech guy that got hired off of sheer luck alone. 

_One of these days,_ he thought, _he’s going to wake up and realize that he’s been humoring me this entire time, and it’ll be back to the monotony I had before._

He was convinced that the Mandalorian had made a mistake by befriending him, but that didn’t stop him from savoring every post-show decompression session they had in the equipment room. He might as well enjoy it before the other shoe dropped. 

*******

By some stroke of bad luck, the Mandalorian had actually managed to convince the producers to let Corin appear on-screen. Not only were they forcing Corin to make an appearance, the appearance happened to be during a group date. On a beach. 

“Aren’t you, uh, going to get hot?” Corin asked the man across from him, gesturing to his full-body armor. 

“Nothing I haven’t done before,” the Mandalorian responded. “You walk across enough desert planets, you don’t even end up noticing the heat anymore. Regardless, this location wasn’t my idea.” 

“Was any of this your idea?”

“None of it. Besides you joining me.” The Mandalorian leaned back into his seat, reclining gracefully despite the heavy armor. This was the first time Corin had seen this man somewhat relaxed, besides when they were chatting in the equipment room post-shoot. 

“It was really nice of you to offer, but I don’t understand why the producers would allow it - wouldn’t I be, uh, your competition? Another man enters the battlefield, and all that. This is supposed to be your search for love.”

“I’m just hoping that one of these women will be able to help me raise my child. I’m not looking for love with them.” 

The transport carrier jerked to a halt, sending Corin practically flying into the Mandalorian’s lap. He caught himself inches away from his friend’s face, bracing his hands square against his shoulders, effectively pinning the man back into his seat. 

“I, uh - I’m sorry,” Corin stuttered, falling back into his seat as the van door swung open. A wall of dry heat hit him square in the face. 

“Gentlemen,” Chris Harrison, who seemed to have appeared from nowhere, greeted the two with a warm smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Corin, I see you seem to be dressed for the warm weather. Mando, not so much - we’ll work on that.”

Corin snorted, _completely_ unintentionally, which earned him a swift kick to the shin. He didn’t like the warm weather any more than it seemed his friend did, but in his short sleeves, he was leaps and bounds more prepared.

“Well, what are you two waiting for?” Chris Harrison asked, as he gestured vaguely to the beach. “Paradise awaits!”

With a groan, the Mandalorian hopped down onto the road, and offered his hand to Corin, who was already plastered with sweat to his seat. “Let’s go. Sooner we get out there, the sooner we can go home.”

Corin ungraciously peeled himself off of the leather and grabbed his equipment bag off the ground. He had always managed to schedule his day off around outings like this, avoiding the blistering heat at all costs. And yet, here he was, standing next to the production team, shielding his eyes against the sun. The Mandalorian seemed positively unaffected. 

_Of course he doesn’t mind the sun, his helmet must have some kind of UV barrier,_ Corin thought. _Lucky duck._

As they made their way to the beach, Corin noticed that two of the producers had taken to glancing back at him every minute or so, followed by hurried whispers to the other. After having sat in on enough meetings, he knew first hand how the production team loved throwing curveballs at the star of the show, often without any previous mention or even hint of what was to come. He knew they were up to something, most likely involving him, and he didn’t like it. 

“So basically, we’re going to have a competition on the beach,” Chris Harrison explained to the Mandalorian, the two of them walking slightly behind Corin. “Whoever you deem the winner will get the group-date rose, and will be safe from elimination tonight. I suggest you choose wisely.”

“I’m choosing Cara,” the Mandalorian states, quite matter of fact. Corin snickers under his breath. They had already discussed this in the transport - he had deemed Cara to be the least political choice, and also the least likely to take his offering as one of genuine attraction. This, he noted to Corin, was something that the majority of the contestants seemed unable to pick up on.

“Cara isn’t on this group date, Mando. You need to choose someone else, for once.”

Corin, who had fallen back in line with the star and the host, saw the Mandalorian shift uncomfortably. He knew that this had thrown a wrench into the other man’s plans, and that he was most likely calculating the way to get around having to give a rose out at all. If he had brought Corin along for good luck, it obviously was not working. 

*******

After a good chunk of walking, they finally reached the edge of the filming location. Without saying a word, the Mandalorian was whisked off by one of the producers - from the looks of it, he was being given a pep talk on how to talk to the contestants without seeming disinterested. 

Corin floated on over to the tech team, making small talk with his coworkers as he helped the audio intern with his microphone set-up. 

“I thought it was your day off,” the intern - Michael - said. “The director said that I’d be on my own today. Thank the stars you showed up, I have no idea what I’m doing. What are you doing here anyways?” Michael, Corin realized, talked in a stream-of-consciousness kind of manner when he was nervous. 

Corin had only interacted with the kid a handful of times, but found himself with a strange affinity for the intern. Maybe it was that he saw himself in him, maybe it was a desire to protect the kid from the stress and despair of the filming world, Corin had no idea. He just knew he wanted to shelter him from the wrath of the higher-ups for as long as possible. 

“I, uh, I’m not entirely certain what I’m doing here,” Corin said, shuffling some pieces of the microphone stand around. “I think it was his idea, he wanted me here for some reason.” He gestured vaguely to the Mandalorian, who was currently arm-wrestling a contestant. 

Michael looked over at the star with a moony-eyed stare. “Wow, Mr. Corin, you sure are lucky. He seems really cool! Do you think you could introduce me to him? I’ve always had questions about the way they make the -”

“Corin, what are you doing over here? You need to get on set,” One of the producers had snuck up from behind Corin, clamping a hand down on his shoulder, the intrusion cutting Michael off. “Also, who let you leave looking like that? It’s the beach, you’re dressed entirely inappropriately. You!” The producer snapped aggressively at a scared looking intern delivering drinks to the cameramen. “Find me some spare swim gear for this man, and also - actually, you know what? We’re going to have you ditch the shirt completely. Makes for good holovision.” The producer winked at Corin, giving him a sly smile, and walked away in the direction the intern had gone. 

Corin looked at Michael, who shrugged in confusion. “I don’t know Mr. Corin, I just work here,” he said, putting the finishing touches on his equipment set-up.

******

The producers hadn’t managed to find Corin a pair of swim trunks that fit; they had found him a pair of swim trunks that were one size too small. In addition, the producer had stuck to her word, threatening to fire Corin if he didn’t go shirtless. 

_This is ridiculous,_ Corin thought, looking at himself in a sandy mirror. _I could have just worn my actual clothes and stayed off-camera. I didn’t even want to be_ on _camera in the first place._ He spun around, inspecting himself, and quickly realized that the trunks left little to the imagination. _What in the stars are they playing at._

“Corin, some producer is looking for you, she -” The Mandalorian turned the corner into the changing area and stopped dead in his tracks. Corin, knowing that this was the last thing he probably wanted to see before a group date, cringed in embarrassment.

“Trust me, this wasn’t my idea - that producer has it out for me, I thought they were just letting me tag along and hang out with the tech crew, but apparently they want me in on the festivities. Something about ‘good holovision.’” Corin crossed his arms over his chest, suddenly very aware of the fact that he was not wearing a shirt. 

“I, um, I should. Tell her. Anyways, she says, uh, come to the court when you’re ready. I’ll see you out there.” The Mandalorian turned around to leave, but missed the doorway entirely and walked square into the wall instead. 

_He must really have trouble seeing out of that helmet,_ Corin thought, as he gathered up his things and followed the man outside.

*******

The game of beach volleyball that the producers had put together quickly deteriorated into a cat fight after one of the contestants directly spiked the ball at another’s head. The women all decided to turn the game into a full-fledged war after that. Corin, already feeling out of place, slowly melted into the background in hopes of not being dragged in by the hair. 

Nevertheless, by the time that the producers deemed that they had enough footage and went to break up the fight, Corin was out of breath and coated in a thin layer of sweat. Presumably, in order to not have to view the post-spike meltdown that ensued, the Mandalorian had watched Corin intensely the half-hearted remainder of the match. He could understand why; Corin was sure that watching him fail at being athletic was a good deal more entertaining - and less graphic - than watching a twi’lek attempt to gorge a fellow contestant’s eyes out with her headtails. 

In the end, the Mandalorian decided to not give out a group-date rose at the producers’ advising. Since all of the contestants present had played some role in the fight, they couldn’t be given immunity from elimination that week. In fact, the producers had to assess whether any of the women involved could stay, or if they would be deemed an insurance liability. 

The ride home in the transport van was much quieter than the ride there - both men were exhausted and elected to ride the first half-hour in comfortable silence rather than make pointless small talk. 

Corin startled when the man across from him finally spoke. “You, uh, played great out there today,” the Mandalorian said, rustling around in one of his bags. “You seemed like you were having fun.”

 _I must be a better actor than I give myself credit for,_ Corin thought. He did have some fun - bantering back and forth with his friend before the game had been fun, as had been the glances they shared any time one of the contestants said something vastly overdramatic. 

“I wanted to. Um. Give you this.” The Mandalorian pulled a slightly smushed, but still intact, rose from his bag. He offered the flower to Corin with a slightly shaking hand, most likely due to the pothole-ridden road.

Corin stared at him. “Isn’t that, uh, illegal? Aren’t these roses considered sacred or something by the production team?”

The Mandalorian chuckled, tension visibly leaving his shoulders. “No, no - that’s an urban legend. I can’t believe that you didn’t know that. I just, uh, want you to have it.”

Corin took the rose and brought it to his nose. No one had ever given Corin a flower before. It didn’t smell like much, and the outside petals seemed to be hanging on for dear life, but it had character.

“Thank you,” Corin said, rolling the flower back and forth between his thumb and middle finger. 

“You’re welcome, Corin.”

Corin shot the man across from him a toothy grin, tucking the flower in his shirt’s pocket like a tiny boutonnière. He’d definitely have to press it when he got home, even though it was still fresh enough to be kept alive in water for a day or so. Corin decided that, instead of letting it crumble, he wanted to be able to keep it. Not for any particular reason - it just made him happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen, I don't know what I'm doing either,

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not entirely certain how many chapters this will have, but probably around 4-5? I'm hoping to finish it in the next few weeks and not have it drag on too long. Because, in all honesty, I will most likely abandon due to it being overwhelming if it's any longer than that.


End file.
